


Cigarette Daydreams

by carrionkid



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, But Not Like Super Bad Period-Typical Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Canon, Pre-Series, bisexual Tommy Shelby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 18:35:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11583777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrionkid/pseuds/carrionkid
Summary: So I've been talking with a friend on tumblr about bi Tommy and Freddie being bitter exes as part of why there's such animosity between them in the show. Also this was born from the line in the first season where Campbell's like 'Are you also in bed with the communists, Mr. Shelby?' because it made me laugh out loud when I rewatched it with this headcanon in mind. Title is from the Cage The Elephant song because apparently I can only name things after songs.--It’s the closest they’ve gotten to kissing after, passing a cigarette back and forth; sure, they kiss during and sometimes even before, always open-mouthed and desperate, but Freddie isn’t one to get too sentimental and some things are better left unsaid. So, he passes the cigarette back and stays silent.





	Cigarette Daydreams

Freddie strikes a match and holds it to the end of the cigarette dangling from his lips. He takes a long drag, then exhales slowly. 

 

“C’mon, pass it here,” Tommy holds his hand out for it. He brings it to his lips and sucks in the smoke. It’s the closest they’ve gotten to kissing after, passing a cigarette back and forth; sure, they kiss during and sometimes even before, always open-mouthed and desperate, but Freddie isn’t one to get too sentimental and some things are better left unsaid. So, he passes the cigarette back and stays silent.

 

They’re sitting side by side on Freddie’s  bed, enough of a gap between them to make sure they both know they’re pointedly not touching each other. It’s one of the few times that Tommy doesn’t look put-together, all business and a cold, calculated stare. The sleeves of his undershirt are pushed up to his elbows and his pants are still undone. It’s a rather compromising sight, but considering they’re both criminals already, this is the least of their worries. 

 

Tommy’s watching the smoke spilling from Freddie’s lips when he makes a decision; sometimes to get what you want, you have to take it. He shifts until he’s kneeling on the bed, then he reaches out for Freddie. There isn’t much that scares Tommy, but somehow this makes his hands shake in a way they haven’t since before France. Freddie gives him a dark look, like he’s daring him to go through with it. He cups Freddie’s cheeks and leans down. Tommy kisses him once, soft and quick, just lips pressed against lips for what’s probably the first time between them. 

 

He pulls back, leaving his hands pressed against Freddie’s head. Freddie brings his hands up, wraps them around Tommy’s wrists, and pulls them away. He keeps his hands around Tommy’s wrists; his grip isn’t tight but the message is clear.

 

“What the fuck, Tommy?” Freddie keeps his voice low, the walls here are thin.

 

Tommy doesn’t have an answer. He just keeps his eyes trained down, not wanting to look Freddie in the eye.

 

“Were you thinkin’ we’d start gettin’ serious?” Freddie laughs, “Were you thinkin’ we’d get all romantic like? ‘Cos that ain’t gonna happen.” 

 

He shakes his head,  then lets go of Tommy, who shifts back to the spot he previously occupied. It looks like nothing’s happened, but the kiss still hangs between them.

 

There’s a long stretch of silence and Tommy’s about to stand up to leave, but Freddie sighs, “Jesus christ, Tommy, you really are gettin’ soft.”

 

“I wasn’t thinkin’ we’d be  _ anything, _ ” Tommy grits his teeth, “Just thought it’d be nice.”

 

“You want nice? Go get yourself a wife.”

 

Tommy swallows his anger; he’s already fucked this up enough, “I just thought it usually meant somethin’ if two people’ve been fuckin’ for a few years.”

 

“You’re a good friend and a warm mouth, nothin’ more.”

 

Tommy bites his tongue hard enough that he can taste blood, it’s still a better choice than actually saying something that’ll just make things worse. Instead, he climbs out of the bed. Then he grabs his hat, pulls on his overcoat, and buttons his pants. 

 

He’s almost at the door when Freddie says, “Wait.”

 

He pauses, but doesn’t turn back.

 

“Forgot your shirt,” Freddie’s voice is quiet as he hands Tommy the shirt and he almost looks sad. He doesn’t let go after Tommy takes the shirt; instead, he takes a deep breath and kisses Tommy. There’s something final about it, something neither of them want to admit.

 

Tommy doesn’t reply, just holds the shirt in his hands, so Freddie continues, “If you were a girl, I’d’a married you in a heartbeat, Tommy, I really would’ve.”

 

“If I  _ ever  _ see you around, I’ll kill you,” Each of his words are sharp-tongued and measured.

 

“We both know you don’t have it in you to kill me.”

 

Tommy doesn’t reply, mostly because he knows Freddie’s right. He opens the door and steps out of the apartment into the hallway, pulling his jacket tight around himself. 


End file.
